The Gray Man's Vacation
by franknjoe
Summary: The Gray Man's first vacation in ten years.
1. Chapter 1

For Nomi. Based on our conversation about a scene in her fantastically convoluted story, Heartland.

Disclaimer: Don't own the ones you recognize.

* * *

"No!" the Gray Man yelled into the phone. "Joe Hardy may not be given access to the Network's prototype super-stealth, racing car. Who knows if we'd get it back?" He slammed down the phone and made sure two year old Zach was still strapped securely to his high chair.

It was 7:15 A.M, time for breakfast. His son definitely wouldn't like his strong, black coffee. He would probably love the donuts, but Arthur Gray wanted to eat all of them. There should be a box of cheerios in the cupboard.

"I take one day off in ten years," he grumbled as he rooted through the cupboard and pushed aside a five-year-old brownie mix until he found the box of cheerios on the bottom shelf with a still-valid expiration date. "You would think they'd be able to get through one day _without _calling me. Joe isn't even up at this hour."

His son signaled his approval of the breakfast choice with a wide grin, but promptly hurled his plate and bowl on the floor.

_Oops_, Arthur thought, running a hand through his tussled brown hair. _ I should have used the plastic ones. _"Daddy forgot your favorite cup and bowl didn't he?" he asked as he laid the plastic spoon and bowl in front of Zach and silently scolded himself. He made one decision a week that affected millions of lives. He could recall every single piece of paper that had come across his desk in the last ten years. But he could not remember that Zach would only eat out of his blue Winnie-the-Pooh bowl and drink from the special Winnie-the-Pooh mug. Zach treated anything else, even the finest china they owned, like a football.

The Gray Man quickly grabbed a handful of cheerios and shoved them into Zach's mouth before his waving hands could scatter them all over the high chair. Sweeping the broken shards on the floor to the side with a broom, he tried to imagine the look on Frank and Joe's faces if they ever found out that he was married, with not only a two year old son, but also a seven year old daughter.

Five people in the world knew that fifth highest ranked person in the super-secret government agency known as the Network was married, two of them being his wife and himself. They had both met before his recruitment into the Network, before the shadowy figure of the Gray Man existed, back when he was Special Agent Gray in FBI and she was Melanie Hood, CIA. When the CIA discovered that a terrorist group was counterfeiting US currency to purchase arms overseas, they asked the FBI for assistance. The agent in charge of the CIA investigation was Melanie Hood. The FBI agent assigned to the case was Arthur Gray. Her assertiveness clashed with his stubbornness, but they both possessed the rare ability to put aside turf wars for the success of the mission. It wasn't long before a grudging respect friendship, and later affection, followed by love. By temperament and training, Melaine was one of the best analysts at Langley, respected and admired by both her desk colleagues and those in the field. Because her schedule was so much more predictable, she routinely took on the child care responsibilities. She was now in Mongolia, personally overseeing the search for one of her missing agents. While his wife braved the desert, all the Gray Man had to do was survive the dangers of their household until she returned.

If he didn't wake up his daughter, now, she would be late for school. But he couldn't leave a two year old in the high chair by himself, could he? He dragged Zach's high chair across the floor so he would have a clear view of it from the living room and opened the closet door and retrieved the blue and red checkered playpen. He turned around, tripped over the ball at his feet, and fell to the floor with the playpen over his head.

"Daddy," his favorite voice in the world said "what are you doing on the floor?"

"Practicing the waltz," the Gray Man said, pulling the play pen off his head and looking at Sabrina's upside down face. "Go get some cheerios while I get this thing set up.

"I hate cheerios," she pronounced. "I want donuts instead."

"No donuts," he said quickly.

"But mommy lets me have donuts."

"She does not! Now, get some toast out of the refrigerator and put it in the toaster."

"Why? I'm seven and I'm not allowed to use the toaster."

"Just this once," the Gray Man said getting up. "But don't tell Mommy."

Reminding himself that he had sustained far more serious injuries, Arthur slowly set up the playpen, which he found more complicated to assemble than his Browning. And Just how was four walls made of cheap fabric supposed to protect his son? He moved back to the kitchen, but the ringing phone interrupted his path to the toaster.

"This about Joe Hardy again?" he barked. "Kid still ain't up yet."

"No sir," his aide Duncan said on the line. "Our special ops team is leaving tomorrow and needs your final approval."

"Yes, I approved the retrieval mission last week, they're all set." He started to hang up the phone.

"Sorry sir, rules and regulations require that I read down the list of materials they are taking with them. First thing is one grenade launcher."

"No, it should be two grenade launchers," he started to chew Duncan out. "I told them-."

"What's a grenade launcher?"

"uh- a tool used for cutting the grass," he improvised wildly. "Duncan, hang on a sec."

"Sabrina, why don't you go get – what is that you're eating?" he asked looking at the black lump on the table.

"The toast, Dad," she said. "Nine is my favorite number so I turned put the setting on nine."

"Why don't you have some yogurt instead?" he asked.

"Ok, I'll get it," she said exuberantly opening the refrigerator and grabbing the container up by the top.

The Gray Man shut his eyes as he heard the plastic hit the floor.

"Oops," her small voice said. "Sorry Daddy."

"It's ok, honey," he said opening his eyes, relieved that the puddle on the floor wasn't too big. "Why don't you go get dressed and I'll clean up the yogurt and get you some fresh toast."

As the sound of tiny feet ran up the stairs, Arthur Gray took his hand off the phone receiver and put it to his ear.

"Sorry Duncan," he said. "Do you have kids?"

"Four, sir, next item on the list is 100 AK-47s."

"God bless you. Make it 150."

"And ten thousand rounds of ammunition."

"Fine. It's Agents Black, Shorty, Scott and Pierce, right?"

"Agent Scott switched with Agent Poodle," Duncan answered. "He's going to Australia instead."

"Wait – no, Zach, stop it!" Zach had already undone the straps of his high chair and was standing up and trying to reach the burnt toast Sabrina had left on the kitchen table.

Relying on muscles that he hadn't used in years, the Gray Man executed a perfect shoulder roll and caught Zach before he fell to the floor, but was too late to save the toast. Thankful that his son was ok, he carried him to the dining room and placed him in the playpen.

"Sorry Duncan," he said. "When do they stop trying to climb out of the high chair?"

"They don't, sir. Agent Poodle has had extensive experience in Uganda while Agent Scott is needed in Australia. Switch was approved this morning by Ryan."

"But Agent Poodle is an idi-" hearing a crash upstairs, the Gray Man bounded up the wooden steps two at a time. "Sabrina!" he called, "Duncan, sorry, Sabrina, what happened?"

"Nothing!" she said.

"Sabrina…" he said warningly.

"Nothing!" she repeated.

"You don't want me to call mommy, do you?" he threatened and wondered what was wrong with him. He could deal with frustrating, incompetent DEA bureaucrats and small-minded politicians by himself but couldn't deal with a seven year old girl without calling his wife?

The next time an officer who cared more about his career than human lives gave him trouble, maybe he should just threaten to put his daughter on the phone.

"Um, well, I wanted to try on her lipstick. So I was climbing on the back of the toilet to reach the medicine cabinet. And then after that I wanted to wear the jacket she has in her wardrobe. I swear, I didn't do anything to it, it just fell over when I looked at it!"

"So you're ok?"

"hmm hmm"

"Are you wearing lipstick?"

"A little."

"Wash it off, and then come and get your jacket downstairs."

"But Angela wears lipstick."

"I don't care what Angela wears, my daughter is not going to school with lipstick. Now, here's the washcloth." He turned to go but then -

"Sabrina, what's that on your arm?" he said grabbing her wrist.

"It's a tattoo," she said. "It's a dragon tattoo. Mike at school put it on."

"A tattoo?" he repeated. "It's not real, is it?"

"Uh-huh," she said. "It won't come off with soap and water for at least a week."

"Before you let any boy put a tattoo on your arm, make sure it comes off," Arthur said. "Now, we gotta leave to drop Zach off at daycare now or you'll be late for school."

"As I said, Agent Poodle is an idiot," he said to Duncan as he headed back downstairs. "Better have them take along an extra supply of bulletproof vests if he's really going. And alert the CIA station chief as well."

"Very good sir. I couldn't help but over hear the conversation, and the tattoo will come off, eventually."

"Better late than never," the Gray Man sighed as he signed off. Opening the closet door he stared at the mass of fabric in front of him. What did four people need this many coats for? Raincoats, winter coats, Fall jackets, couldn't people just have one jacket all year round? He ruffled through the closet and pulled out his daughter's Fall jacket and hung it over the railing in the hall.

Spinning around, he strode back into the kitchen and popped two pieces of toast in the toaster and reached for the sponge, stepping right into the liquefied yogurt on the floor.

He counted to five and then slowly turned his head. Zach waved at him from the playpen.

The Gray Man slowly stripped off his sopping wet sock and deliberately grabbed a paper towel, then silently mopped up the yogurt. When the toast popped out of the toaster, he carefully spread butter on it and folded it up in a clean paper towel. Taking the toast with him, he headed back to the hallway as Sabrina slid down the stairs on the railing. Knowing it wasn't worth the effort to scold her, he handed her the jacket and toast and looked closely at her mouth. He didn't see any lipstick, then again, he hadn't really noticed any the first time either.

"Time to go?" he asked brightly, and picked up the pink backpack that Melanie had left by the door.

"Yes… daddy, what happened to your sock?"

"Never mind," he said quickly, jamming one bare foot and one foot with a black sock into his old sneakers before grabbing the car keys. "Get in the car."

Resisting the urge to drive at his normal eighty miles an hour, the Gray Man eased their blue minivan down the driveway at a speed Melanie wouldn't have believed.

"Daddy," Sabrina said slowly from the backseat as she looked around. "I think we forgot something."

"What?" he asked worriedly. "You did your homework, didn't you?"

"Math and reading," she answered. "But where's Zach?"

"Shit!" he slammed on the brakes causing them both to lurch forward, put the parking brake on, and ran into the house.

Zach smiled brightly and clapped his hands, his happy face quickly turning to a frown as his father picked him up and carried him to the car. As the Gray Man buckled him into his car seat, his oval face scrunched up and he began to wail.

"I'm going to tell mommy you said shit," Sabrina announced from the back seat. She handed Zach a disgusting looking stuffed rabbit, and Zach immediately stopped crying.

"Please, don't!" the Gray Man screeched. If Melanie got wind of that, she'd make them use the CIA's babysitters the next time she went out of town. And part of him would prefer being caught by the Assassins to hearing the gossip at the FBI and CIA Christmas parties about how he couldn't take care of his own kids.

_You know Melanie's husband. He's really hush-hush. Anyway, not quite sure what he does, but he can't be too bright. Melanie's in the Congo, and their kids are home with Fred, the agency baby-sitter. Maybe Arthur can't correctly assemble a playpen? _

"Ok, I won't tell her about that word if you don't tell her about the lipstick," Sabrina said and pulled the tube out of her pocket and began applying it to her lips."

"Deal," Arthur sighed. It was what he deserved for being too distracted to notice her juvenile attempt to conceal a prohibited item. If she were an enemy agent, she could have bugged his car and killed him by now. "But the tattoo needs to be gone by the time she comes home."

"It'll be gone," she promised. "It'll come off with soap and water in a few days."

They dropped Zach off at the daycare center. Surmising from his facial expression that he had little experience with children, the staff quickly whisked Zach off into the corner where he was soon hollering and banging on plastic containers with the other two year olds.

The father and daughter rode in uninterrupted, peaceful silence to Brookside Elementary school. Just as they pulled up to the doors, the Gray Man's phone rang – again.

"Duncan, this better be good – bye Sabrina!"

"It's Frank sir," Duncan said. "He says if you don't give Joe the car so they can rescue Miss Shaw and Miss Bender, the local Dominos will deliver 500 pizzas to your boss, paid for with your credit card." To anyone listening to the tone of Duncan's voice, he sounded like he was commenting on the weather.

"Frank?" the Gray Man asked puzzled. "Are you sure it isn't Joe?"

"It's Frank. I asked him if it was really him two times."

"What's going on with Callie and Vanessa?"

"Assassins got them," Duncan said grimly.

"I'm driving toward the office now. What's going on?"

"Frank and Joe are on an oil platform off Dubai," Duncan explained as Arthur drove. "They found Pitr Petrovsky's hideout, but Petrovsky found Callie and Vanessa first and is holding them on the oil platform. Our team is en route, but won't be there for twenty minutes. Frank and Joe want to go in before we do, but that'll destroy the whole operation -"

"What do they need the car for if they're on an oil platform," the Gray Man interrupted.

"Pitr wants it in exchange for Callie and Vanessa," Duncan answered.

"Out of the question," the Gray Man said firmly. "Are the Hardys on a secure line?"

"They're calling on a secure line in thirty seconds."

"Ok, they have two options. We rig a fake car and give them a remote detonator. Or, we surround the place silently and we'll give them a five minute head start. When they call back, you talk to them, but route the conversation through my phone so I can listen."

Arthur Gray pulled over to the side of the road and watched as cars whizzed by him. He still had to go grocery shopping and back to school for Sabrina's parent-teacher conference. And what were the other things on that list? He pulled out the crumpled page from the back pocket of his jeans and read:

_Arthur Dearest:_

_Do the laundry. Remember to separate the whites and the colors._

_Grocery shopping. We need: shaved ham, powdered sugar, eggplant, parmesan cheese, key lime Yoplait yogurt._

_Sabrina's parent teacher conference is at two. Try and act normal._

_Mop the hallway and dust the furniture in the living room._

_Weed the garden._

_Love,_

_Melanie_

There were no instructions on how to reach her. Just as he had never once provided any for her. Noticing the blinking light, he snatched up his phone in time to hear:

'It's _Callie _and _Vanessa. _Don't for a second think we care about your operational procedures." Frank's voice was relatively calm, the Gray Man thought, all things considered.

"I don't have time for operational procedures, either," Duncan retorted as the Gray Man smiled broadly because his well-trained assistant would soon be ready for his own independent post. "I'm giving you your two options. We rig the vehicle in a warehouse and let Pitr show up there and blow him up."

"So you don't care about Van-,"

"I also care about the other people who will be harmed if the assassins get hold of that car," Duncan cut Joe off. "Our strike team will be there in seven minutes. You won't know they are there until they want you to, but we're giving you the access code to Pitr's base and the head start. They will be advised of your presence, but the highest priority is Pitr, preferably alive."

"Right, your highest priority," Joe said sarcastically. "We know how you define"

"If our priority was Pitr dead, you would know it," the Gray Man said coldly, glancing at the picture of Sabrina on the dashboard. "Knowing you two, you're already in or close to him by now. You now have six minutes, twenty seconds. I suggest you get going."

"You!" Joe exclaimed. "You trying to get your stooge here to-?"

"Later, Joe," Frank interrupted. "We rescue the girls first and deal with them later."

He heard some angry whispers in the background, the sound of Duncan transmitting the access code and then winced as the sound of Frank slamming down the receiver echoed in his ear.

"That went well," commented Duncan dryly. "Better than usual, at least."

"Keep me posted," the Gray Man responded. "If we capture Pitr, I want to know immediately."

* * *

Arthur Gray had not set a foot inside the grocery store in fifteen years. Someone else always did the shopping and he stopped at the nearest 7-11 for M&Ms and cashews whenever he needed a snack.

After picking up three purple eggplants, he stopped by the meat counter. Just how many kinds of ham were here? Resisting the urge to count, he looked for "shaved ham" but couldn't find it. There was honey baked, gourmet spiral sliced, and Smithfield hams, and many more as well as the local store brand, but no "shaved" ham. But if Melanie wanted it, that's what she'd get.

"I'd like some shaved ham, please," he said to the lady behind the checkout counter.

"Ok, what kind?" she asked.

"The shaved kind," he replied.

"There's honey baked, gourmet spiral sliced, Smithfield and our own," she said slowly as if she were talking to a child. "Now, you pick your kind and I will _shave _it for you. What kind would you like."

"The most expensive one," he said without bothering to look. In his line of work, there was no use buying shoddy, under priced equipment.

"Thank you," he said as he took the package and pretended not to hear the woman as she muttered under her breath about how you couldn't expect people with one sock on their foot to make any sense. He frowned when he saw how little ham there was in the package. You'd have to eat all of it to make a meal. Next time, he'd make sure they got some edible, thick ham.

The powdered sugar wasn't too hard to find. But he spent five minutes combing through the cheese section before he overheard another customer say that the Parmesan cheese was located in the spaghetti aisle.

But where was the Yoplait yogurt? He wandered around the store for a good twenty minutes, and saw lots of different yogurts, but no Yoplait. Just as he was about to give up, he saw the Yoplait yogurt by the windshield-wiper fluid.

Forty-five minutes after he had entered the grocery store, he left, toting three bags. In addition to the ingredients on Melaine's list, he had also gotten Ben&Jerry's ice cream, Cheese Its, Gold Fish Crackers and a two six-packs of ice-cold Bud Light. Judging by the way this vacation was proceeding, it would be another ten years before he would have another opportunity to consume one drop of alcohol.

But luckily, there was enough time to go home and start the laundry before Arthur Gray, the traveling insurance salesman, needed to be at school for Sabrina's parent teacher conference.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: the Gray Man is not my own. I'm just altering his personality a bit. Or rather, showing the other side.

* * *

"Mr. Gray it's nice to finally meet you," the black-haired woman rose from her desk and extended her hand. "Sabrina has told me all about you, and I had a wonderful talk with your wife at Open House."

"Likewise Mrs. Brown," the Gray Man answered as he plastered what he hoped was an unthreatening smile on his face. "I heard about the wonderful fieldtrip the class took to the Museum of Natural History."

"You did?" the smile on her face faltered and she looked worried. "I hope you really don't think that incident was how things are usually run in my classroom, Mr. Gray."

"Ah, of course not," Arthur answered, no stranger to pretending he knew what the conversation was about. "Kids will be kids." _And that's the truest thing I've said all day. _

"And from now on, we have a buddy system," she added. "That way no kids will accidentally be left on the Metro again."

"You left my kid on the Metro alone?" he demanded, mentally reminding himself that he should take a personal day to act as a chaperone the next time Sabrina had a fieldtrip.

"It wasn't her," she answered calmly, completely at ease with overwrought parents. "It was Neville and Alexander. They were too busy listening to their iPods to get off the metro. Needless to say, iPods, cell phones and pagers are now restricted on field trips."

"What's an iPod?" the Gray Man asked curiously.

"I thought Sabrina has one?"

"Uh, my wife handles that stuff," he mumbled. "I'm hopeless with electronics and things like that."

"Have a seat," Anita Brown said gesturing to a swivel chair in front of her desk which had been brought into the classroom exclusively for him. "I'm glad to report that Sabrina has been doing very well."

"Uh – good."

"In particular, her writing skills are quite advanced for someone her age. And she's unusually observant."

"Oh, yes," he said, his insides sinking. He'd have to be twice as careful now. "I have no idea where she got that from."

"For their last writing assignment, the class had to write about their favorite hobby. Sabrina wrote about baseball. She's quite a Nationals Fan."

"We go to the games about once a month," Arthur lied smoothly. _See Melanie, I can act normal. Normal people go to football games, right?_

"I was amazed at her capacity for noticing detail. She wrote about the bleachers, the hotdogs, the way the players get dirt all over their uniforms, the sound the bat against the ball makes. Perhaps she'll be a writer when she grows up."

"Perhaps," Arthur Gray answered. _Baseball! It's the most boring sport ever. Why'd she get into that. I need to make sure Zach goes out for football. _"But maybe she'll be something else."

"Sabrina also has an aptitude from math," Anita Brown answered. "She's near the top of the class in the subject. However, she isn't doing well in science and has no curiosity. She called waiting for lima beans to grow a waste of time. She wanted to go to the store and buy a new plant right away."

"Observant but impatient and a lack of discipline," Arthur said. _You're going to have to learn some patience and discipline if you ever want to be any kind of agent. _"Tell me, how is she doing socially?"

"She has a couple of friends, Lilly Stewart and Harry Rearden she hangs around with most of the time. She gets along well with others but doesn't socialize outside that group too much. She's not a queen bee in the center of attention, but she isn't disliked by other people either."

"Good," the Gray Man said. _Reserved personality and practically invisible. Even if you don't join any black ops, you'll avoid fights in a bar. _It would be useless asking Anita Brown what Meyers-Biggs Type she thought his daughter was or how she reacted to stress, or any of the other details he really wanted to know. This gentle woman would have no idea. "Does she do her homework?"

"Of course," Anita Brown answered, looking puzzled. "Everyday. She's a very conscientious student. I'd just try go get her to take more care with her science homework. The other day she told me there were twelve planets in the solar system."

"Twelve?" Arthur asked smiling. "That's original." He stood up abruptly and frowned.

"Something wrong Mr. Gray?" Anita asked swiveling around.

"The windows," he said peering outside.

"Excuse me?"

"With that building right there, it's the perfect position for a sniper. I need to speak to the principal immediately."

"A sniper?" she whipped around and stared out the window. "But the two snipers were caught, weren't they? And how would you know about sniper positions?"

"Sabrina doesn't know, but I was once a soldier in the military," Arthur said smoothly, sitting back down. "Old habits die hard I suppose, even though my career now is much more relaxed than it was before. A father worries, you know. I'll speak to the principal." _And the superintendent, and the mayor, and the President. _

"Your wife told me about the work she does as a graphing designer," Anita continued. "But she didn't mention what you do.

"Insurance," he said. "I 'm gone often. Travelling around the world between Metlife's global offices."

"My husband is a Claims adjuster for Allstate," she commented. "What kind of insurance you specialize in?"

"Life insurance."

"He's an auto insurance person."

And after a few more pleasantries and after Arthur promised twice that he would help Sabrina with her science homework every night, they shook hands and he left. Barging into the principal's office, he put the fear of God into Prinicpal Dippet, who promised to scrounge up money in the depleted school budget for tinted windows.

Striding down the hall, Arthur Gray made sure he was a discreet distance from any open doors and flipped open his cell phone and dialed. "Any news about Pitr?"

"Took Callie Shaw hostage and escaped. Frank and Joe got her back, but Pitr's long gone. It wouldn't have made a difference," he continued, understand what was on his boss's mind. "He didn't really even need a hostage, and he had a gateway planned in advance."

"Start checking," the Gray Man sighed. Since Pitr had eluded them for this long, they both knew it was time to consider that there was a mole on the inside. Which was practically impossible, but not unheard of. "And I have something else for you to do." He paused.

Run a check," he commanded too forcefully. "Mrs. Anita Brown. Third grade teacher at Brookside Elementary school. Late thirties, black hair, 136 pounds, five foot five. She's asking me questions about iPods. And give an anonymous donation to Brookside for tinted windows, alarms on the windows and doors, and motion sensors on the roof. Advance it now out of my next four paychecks. "

"Yes sir," Duncan said seriously. More than half of the fathers in the Network had already approached him with similar requests. Duncan had been waiting for this day for seven years. Now that it had finally come, he could treat himself to the bottle of wine he'd been saving for the occasion. "I'll make that urgent priority, sir."

"Good and-,"

"Did you see her pigtails?" a brown-haired boy with enormous pimples asked his friend loudly, causing the Gray Man to look up from his phone calls. "Those pink bows are so stupid. I'm going to cut them off."

"Arthur," Duncan's distant voice sounded warningly but the Gray Man was already moving forward.

"She sits in class everyday with her nose upturned like she knows everything," he prattled on. "She always raises her hand every time the teacher asks a question and the know-it-all Sabrina is always right. When I cut off her"

"Hello," Arthur Gray said pleasantly. "May I have your name please?"

"My Dad said not to talk to strangers," the boy jutted his chin out firmly. "Who are you?"

"Sabrina's father," he answered. "And I couldn't help overseeing your conversation just now. Your name please?"

"Don Taylor," he said with a defiant look in his eye that set off alarm bells in the Gray Man's mind.

"Any relation to Serge?" he asked.

"My father," he said, eyeing the Gray Man suspiciously. "Do you know him?"

"A long time ago," Arthur answered, wondering what idiot at witness protection had transferred them to the DC area. Serge (as he was now named) was the star prosecution witness at the trial of Estivo Garcia, a Columbian drug dealer who sold some of his products to the assassins. Posing as FBI Agents, the Gray Man's team had arrested him in New Mexico and used him as a mole for a couple of months, before turning the entire case over to the real FBI. Don was looking at him now the way his father had during their first interrogation.

"I'm a mild-mannered kind of guy," the Gray Man continued, ignoring the choking sounds he heard through the phone "but when I hear someone talking about my daughter, I get a little upset. You weren't really going to cut off her pigtails were you?"

"Uh – no, sir," Don said, "I was just talking, that's all."

"Sabrina's good at reading and math, but not science," Arthur said. "Why don't you try answering some science questions in class?"

"My father doesn't want me to be a smarty," Don said. "He always said not to make trouble."

"He's right about not making trouble, and the way not to make trouble is to do your homework, participate in class, and not cut off girls' pigtails."

"Uh, yes sir. Science, sir, and I won't do it, ever sir, not even mention it, sir."

"Good man," he patted Don's shoulder awkwardly and continued down the hall, turning up the volume on the phone.

"Oh, and Duncan," he said hesitantly.

"Yes?" for the first time all day Duncan sounded genuinely surprised. The last time he had heard that degree of uncertainty in his boss's voice was when he decided to intentionally risk Frank's life to try and save Joe's. Neither of the brothers had ever found out about _that _situation and Arthur firmly intended to keep it that way.

_Be a man. _"What's the difference between hot and cold cycles, and what's the difference between permanent press and knits?"

The silence was deafening.

"Uh – Duncan,"

"I'm here sir. What did you do?"

"I put everything on hot water, permanent press," Arthur answered.

Another long pause followed. "Everything? Then you left the house."

"Yeah. I'm going to put things in the dryer when I get home. Is there a problem? At least I have two pairs of socks on now."

"By everything, what do you mean exactly?" Duncan asked, having been well-trained to disregard inessential comments, especially those related to footwear.

"My grey chalk stripe suit and my grey mélange suit from Hickey Freeman. Both the pants and jackets, five of Sabrina's red and blue tie-dye shirts, and four white silk blouses."

"And you didn't read the labels first?"

"The labels mean something? I thought that was just for the sizes."

"Sir. Um, whatever you do, don't put that stuff in the dryer. And I'd strongly recommend investing in another wardrobe before she comes home."

"Well, what about the load I have in the dryer now?"

Wondering what a woman as intelligent as Melanie Hood could possibly have been thinking, Duncan asked "and what do you have in the dryer now and on what settings?"

"She said to separate the whites and the colors. So that load is all black. Two black jacket tops, two black jacket pants, and three long black skirts. They are all hers. And I put them on the cotton/high settings for 60 minutes before I left."

"Get a completely new wardrobe, preferably before she comes home. And might I suggest dry-cleaning in the future? I have an Aunt Linda who has a dry cleaning business. She can get stains out of anything."

"Can you take care of that?" Arthur Gray asked, thinking of everything he had to do, in addition to this. "Order a new wardrobe?"

"I'm sorry sir. Union rules and regulations prohibit it. But I will refer you to my Aunt Linda. She's very knowledgeable about where to find executive wardrobes of all types." And for the first time in their relationship, it was Duncan who hung up the phone first.

"Daddy!" Sabrina's voice echoed across the playground. "Is it time to go?"

"Yes," Arthur answered. "Go inside and get your backpack, and we'll go pick up Zach. Oh, and, watch out for um, any boys with scissors."

"You mean Don? He tried to cut off my pigtails last week after I beat him at basketball in gym. I punched him in the nose."

"Sabrina! Haven't we always taught you that you can't solve your problems by using violence?"

"I tried Daddy. But he wanted to cut off my pigtails."

"Doesn't matter. No ice cream for you tonight."

"But I"

"Be thankful mommy isn't here. She'd make you apologize to him. Now, backpack,"

And they were off, Sabrina chattering about what she had done that day. She had started to learn her two times tables in math. She was reading _Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing_. In gym they had played with a parachute. When the gym teacher called her color green, she ducked under the parachute and left her spot and ran to another section. And listening to her talk, Arthur Gray was lulled into a sense of security. That nothing was wrong in this world. That nothing was happening in Dubai. That men like Serge or Al-Rousassa or Garcia didn't exist.

"Oh, Sabrina," he said just as they pulled up to Zach's daycare center. "Mrs. Brown mentioned that you're having a difficult time in science, especially with plants. So when we get home, why don't you weed the garden? Mommy will be so proud of you."

"She wants you to do it," Sabrina answered seriously, unbuckling her seatbelt. "She said that you'd have a marvelous green thumb if you only get the chance to use it."

"But you need to watch plants growing for science," Arthur countered, opening the back door. "And if you do that, we can order pepperoni pizza tonight." After his experience with the laundry, he was going to stay as far away from the stove as possible.

"Ok. Does that mean I can keep the tattoo?" she asked, gesturing toward the tattoo on her arm, which, as far as Arthur could tell, looked exactly the way it had that morning. "Nice try," he said gesturing for her to enter the building. "But I'm afraid the tattoo still has to go. Now let's get your brother."

Zach's day had past uneventfully, the staff reported. He had played, pooped, slept, ate, pooped again, had a nap, and knocked down the Jenga towers 22 times. But he was ready to go home and should go to bed no later than six o'clock. Indeed, Zach fell asleep in the car as the Gray Man and Sabrina argued about how many planets were in the solar-system. At the end, the Gray Man agreed to order an extra-large double-cheese pepperoni pizza while Sabrina agreed to weed the garden.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

-

For some reason, this chapter's turning into a family drama, soap opera rather than a comic story. I need to apologize because my characters are not behaving (although when does the Gray Man ever act the way we want him to), and it is the last chapter. Don't own the Gray Man obviously.

Thank you so much for your great reviews and to everyone who has been reading!

* * *

"Pizza's here!" Sabrina called from outside, "Did you hear me daddy?!"

"I did," Arthur answered. "I was just setting up the playpen again. Congratulations, your Dad is now the playpen master." How come the Network never had an outreach program to nannies? Anyone who could set up playpens and deal with children all day was more than capable of handling the assassins. Forget the college graduates, the Network should be recruiting babysitters.

"Keep the change," he said handing the kid thirty dollars and taking the very unhealthy pizza from him and waving off the profuse thanks for the 40 percent tip. "Just do something useful with it, like buy yourself a crowbar to put in the trunk of your car. That way, if a disgruntled customer ever locks you in the trunk, you can get yourself out."

_Huh_, he thought, watching the confused person drive off. _Everyone knows that. Basic security. _

"How's the- wow, what a great job," he said surveying the garden. "Where did you learn how to do this?"

The marigolds, tulips and daffodils were lined up in their neat rows. Arthur Gray's keen eye could not see a single weed anywhere (he had learned to distinguish them from flowers through a survival training course).

"Nowhere," she said, wiping her dirty hands on her jeans. "I help mommy once in a while, that's all."

"She's a good teacher," Arthur said. "Wash your hands, and then we will eat this pizza, he said gesturing to the extra-large cheese and pepperoni pizza he had placed on their doorstep.

"Good," she said, her brilliant smile lighting up her face. "There will definitely be enough!" And she skipped up the steps into the house, leaving the trowel for the Gray Man to pick up and put in their small tool shed at the side of the house.

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and the air was cool and crisp. Fall would soon be coming and the leaves had just started to change their colors. He hoped that for the winter there was enough insulation – enough-. Why was Sabrina thinking that an extra-large cheese pizza would be enough for two people? It was enough for eight.

_Oh, please don't let this be true. It's just my professional, paranoid, overactive imagination. This will be a nice quiet dinner with two people and Zach will eat about two bites of pizza and more cheerios. _

"Hey Sabrina," he said as casually as he could as he entered the house, hoping that Mrs. Brown was wrong about how observant his daughter was. "Is your homework done?"

"Yep," she said. "I wasn't sure about the answers to some of the math problems, so I called Lisa for some help. And since she can walk here in about ten minutes, I invited her over for dinner. She said that she could come and she'd call Sarah and a few more friends to see if they could come, too."

"Is this the same Lisa who broke the Ming vase in the living room the last time she was here?" Arthur asked warily.

"She said she was sorry. And she promised to pay for it when she grows up. She has two dollars and fifty cents out of her allowance saved for it. We're going to be in the kitchen not the living room anyway," she said lifting her chin, practically daring her father to argue.

"Call her up and tell her that Mommy's not home and you can't have anyone over," he said firmly.

"But I've been promising her for ages that she could come, and it's the only time we're going to be able to see each other in _months. _And since you're always away so much, I thought we could be normal for once and you could meet all my friends. I've already told them all about you!"

"You have?" he asked, both anxious and touched. Touched because she had told them all about him when he had last seen them at Sabrina's birthday party four months ago. Anxious because the more his personal and professional lives drew closer together, the more nervous he became. But that was all that seemed to be happening today.

"Of course," she said. "I told them that you're a good baseball pitcher, that your favorite ice cream is vanilla fudge swirl, and that you're always away traveling on business but it's always a lot of fun when you're home. And, I told them that you're the nicest man in the world."

"Ok," he sighed. _Emotional blackmail does work. At least Joe will never tell me that in a million years. _"Fine, but they are not to set a toe outside the kitchen and the bathroom. Just how many kids are we talking about?"

"Lisa," she said counting on her hands. "Sarah, Jessica, Jackie, Rose, and Sheila. And Sheila said that she'd bring her little sister Robyn, too. And I told them they could call a few of their friends, too."

"They can come over," Arthur said regaining his ground. "But you need to call them back and say they can't invite anyone else. I don't care how rude it looks, tell them that mommy said you can't have more than eight people over or she'll ground you until you're thirty."

"But,"

"No buts, or I'll tell her about the tattoo and ground you myself," the Gray Man answered in the tone that sent heads of state, subordinates, and Joe Hardy scurrying away.

Sabrina had more pluck than most kings, presidents, and prime ministers. Although she knew better than to argue or bring up his use of inappropriate language or mention him leaving his son in the car, her expression let him know that she was not pleased.

_Give it a few more years. And then we'll see if you really can challenge authority while working with a team and got this manipulation thing down pat. _

As he rooted around in the kitchen cupboard for the paper plates, he heard Sabrina speaking loudly on the hall phone. "You coming Sarah?... Oh good, I can't wait to see you!. .. You didn't invite anyone else did you… ok, good. Yeah, it's my Dad. He's being nasty and telling me I can't have anyone else over besides just a few people. See you soon, bye!"

And just as the Gray Man had gotten out what looked like every plastic cup in the house and had scrounged up enough silverware, he heard the doorbell ring and Sabrina running to answer it.

"Hi Jackie, how are you? Hi Mrs. Williams, how are you?"

_Where had his daughter learned manners? _Arthur mused. It sure wasn't from him.

"We're eating in the kitchen, Jackie," she practically yelled, just so she would be sure that her grumpy, mean father could hear. "Extra-large cheese and pepperoni pizza. See you later Mrs. Williams!"

The next time Arthur Gray turned around, the doorbell had rung six times, there were seven girls sitting around their kitchen table and a four year old on the floor crying and clinging to his leg.

"Sheila, do you think you should call your mom and have her come back here and pick her up?" Arthur asked worriedly, trying to do his best at this parenting thing.

"Nah, don't worry about it," Sheila answered. "Just leave her on the floor and give her a lollipop. She cries all the time and nobody can do anything about it. Now, I'm hungry for some pizza."

"We don't have lollipops," said Arthur, knowing full well that Sabrina kept an illegal stash in her room. He raised his voice to be heard over the din. "She can suck on Zach's pacifier instead. Sabrina, go get it. Lisa, would you please get the orange juice out of the refrigerator and pour some?"

Lisa's chair scraped against the floor as she pushed it back and got the orange juice out of the refrigerator. Sabrina disappeared toward the living room in search of a pacifier. On the floor, Robyn let out a particularly loud wail as Jackie decided that she had enough of waiting for the pizza. She pulled a piece right out, yanking it back and splattering bright red pizza sauce on the sparkling, white wall.

"That's ok," the Gray Man announced to the ceiling with a painful smile. "It's only the wall." _And I should have made grilled cheese sandwiches. Two minutes for each side wouldn't have been that hard. Even though it involves touching the electric stove… Nah, feeding them MREs would have been better._

Lisa started pouring the orange juice. Sheila grabbed her elbow, causing her to tip over the cup. Orange juice spilled all over the wooden table and dripped down to the floor.

Sabrina burst through the doorframe with the pacifier, but despite everything he had been told about her being observant, she did not notice the orange juice on the floor, slipped on it and slid across the floor, landing in front of the refrigerator.

"Hey," he shouted as the room erupted around him. "Everyone remain calm, it's,"

"only a little spill," a new voice finished.

"Mommy!" Sabrina exclaimed getting up off the floor. "I thought you were away at work."

"The trip was cut short so I came back early," Melanie answered, her green eyes surveying the silent room from the doorway. "Arthur, there are paper towels under the sink. Robyn can go in Zach's high chair, even though it's a little too big. I'll serve the pizza and then take Zach up to bed."

Never one to argue with common-sense advice, the Gray Man retrieved the paper towels and tore several sheets and passed them around the table to use as napkins and Sabrina even joined him in mopping up the floor. Robyn was content with the pacifier and perfectly happy to sit in the high chair, not even seeming to notice the tight fit.

Melanie served six pieces of pizza to the girls around the table, and cut up half of a slice for Zach. She filled a pitcher with water and poured it into the glasses, and then gave her husband a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I'll be back after I put Zach to bed," she said, managing to hold both Zach and the plate.

"No, I will," Arthur said. "You have a slice of pizza and relax."

"Ok, what stuffed animal are you going to give him so he goes to sleep right away?" she asked softly so the kids couldn't hear.

"Uh, the elephant," he answered.

"Nope, it's the owl," Melanie replied with a smile. "The elephant is for when he's sick. Now, go catch Robyn before she falls out of the high chair."

"Not a problem," he mumbled as soon as she was out of earshot. "She's actually fine as long as she" the sentence was never completed as Robyn started jerking around in the chair and would have toppled it over if the Gray Man had not held it firmly down. He spent the rest of the time until Melanie returned empty-handed a half an hour later listening to chatter about kickball, making chocolate chip cookies and how to get back at Don for the fifty annoying things he had done.

After Melanie came back in the kitchen, all of the girls pitched in to clean up the table, and then all compared homework answers. Before Arthur Gray knew it, parents were at the door to take their children home, and the house was empty again, except for his family. Arthur and Melanie both read a bedtime story to Sabrina before Arthur kissed her goodnight and left the room while she got dressed for bed. And on the way to his room, his cell phone rang yet again, and he listened to it for several minutes.

"That was Duncan," he said hanging up his cell phone as Melanie entered their room. "Mrs. Brown turned out alright. I had a check run on her this afternoon. The security at school is insufficient, so I also arranged for a few upgrades."

"Of course she's fine. I ran that check at the beginning of the school year," Melanie said entering their bathroom and undoing her thick braid. "What was it that made you do it? And what kind of upgrades?"

"Nothing drastic, just some tinted windows and motion sensors for the roof. She asked me about iPods and where I work. What are iPods anyway?"

"Remember records?" she asked patiently, squirting toothpaste on her blue and green toothbrush. "Black, round, look like a Frisbee with a little hole in it? And how are the motion sensors supposed to distinguished between squirrels and a prowler"

"Well, it's what young people listen to today instead of those records," she said in response to his look of disdain on that topic. "Ipods hold the equivalent of thousands of them."

"Thousands? Give me those records any day," the Gray Man said. "They have no idea what they are missing."

"And that is why I love you."

It was the catch in her voice that caused him to look more closely at her. Her eyes were tired and her shoulders sagged as she stood in front of the mirror.

"Melanie," he said. "Melanie, look at me." And she continued to brush her teeth and refused to meet his eyes in the mirror.

The Gray Man moved into the bathroom with her and shut the door. He turned off the lights and opened the cabinet and pressed a lever on the back.

Red light shone from the light bulb and lit the room with a soft glow. When the scan was finished, the room briefly went dark and then the light bulb turned back on to reveal Melanie standing in Arthur's embrace with his arms securely around her.

"He died," she said, her face buried in his shoulder. "I never even made it there. They found his body in an alley. Broken nose, broken arm, broken ribs. And stabbed in the heart."

There was nothing he could say so he held her. "He was one of the best agents we've ever had. Infiltrated Al-Qaeda like it was a piece of cake. And he gets stabbed by lowlife black market thugs and left for dead."

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with both sorrow and fury. "I should have been there, if he had the right backup, if he had a better partner if"

"It's done," he said softly. "He knew the risks when he signed on, and you gave him the best training imaginable."

"Done!" she exclaimed furiously with murder in her eyes. "His wife thinks he works at the Department of Energy. His daughter is eight years old. Eight. And I need to go tell his wife that he died – he's going to die in a horrible car accident in Bethesda tomorrow afternoon." She picked up the vase of flowers on the small shelf, and the Gray Man saw the arc of her arm as soon as he heard it smashing it against the wall.

"I'm glad you're here," Arthur said. "Not only because I love you but also because I know you'll never rest until you find out why he was killed and until the killers are caught. And after you catch them, they'll never do that again."

"We pick up the pieces and we do the best we can," she whispered. "But is it enough? We're always on the defensive, rarely on the offensive."

"It is enough," the Gray Man answered. "It allows pizza to be spattered all over the kitchen wall and our daughter weed the garden and talk about kickball and how her mean father will only let her have seven people over for dinner."

"It's nice to have you home," she said after a long moment. "And it's great to be reminded of why we do this," she said, her tone conveying her gratitude.

She opened the door, effectively breaking the security seal.

"Did you wash my black skirt and white blouse," she asked over her shoulder, opening the door to her wardrobe. "I have an important presentation in front of _the committee _tomorrow morning, and you know what they are like."

They smiled at each other as she stuck her head out of the wardrobe. When she said _the committee _in that tone, she was always referring to the Senate Intelligence Committee. No Senator knew that Arthur Gray and Melanie Hood were married, although they all certainly remembered them. The two times Arthur Gray had been called to testify before Congress, he had told one Senator that he was an incompetent buffoon, another Senator that her daughter was dating the biggest drug dealer in Washington, D.C., and a third that although he had a good head for intelligence business, his wife was having an affair with his top aide. After those incidents, he was effectively banned from Capitol Hill.

Melanie Hood had testified before the Senate and the House on numerous occasions. Although the House Committee was skeptical of her claim that the bank system was weak, they quickly changed her mind and respected her after she gave them a demonstration by hacking into all of their bank accounts and making donations to the reelection campaigns of their opponents with their personal funds. From that point forward, her opinion was listened to, if not always agreed with.

"Hey, where'd all my clothes go?" she asked after she had riffled through the few clothes that were there. "I asked you to wash them. I can't show up tomorrow with the blouse with a grease stain on the front of it."

"Linda's dry cleaning will be delivering your clothes, along with some new ones, at four AM," Arthur said nervously.

"Why? What happened to them?"

"You don't want to know. She's also delivering my suits for tomorrow." And by the grace of God, his ringing cell phone interrupted the conversation.

"You were right sir, there's a mole. You'll need to come in early, and I'll brief you at three AM tomorrow morning, sir." Arthur hung up the phone without replying to Duncan. For right now, the security of his house depended on the laundry. Since he'd now be gone before his suits arrived, that meant he'd have to wear a black suit instead of his trademark gray tomorrow, and he hated how he looked in black.

"Doing the laundry is very simple! You put the white things and the black things separately and wash them on COLD. And did you mention your suits? You honestly tried to wash those? What's your problem?"

"Problem, ok, well, why can't you just put everything in at once? Isn't that what the laundry machine is for, doing laundry?"

"It's what your brain is for, silly. Since you do a great job _selling_ _life insurance_, don't you think you can read the directions on the machine?!"

"Ok, I'm sorry. I'll read the memo next time before I do the laundry. Just write one for me, ok?"

"Oh, I give up," she grumbled and got out her nightgown. "Linda better be here on time with everything just right, or you're in trouble."

They silently dressed for bed. Melanie got in bed and reached for the junky romance novel she kept on her bedside table. Arthur fetched one of the car magazines he kept for show on their bookshelf. Maybe he could actually read some of it now.

"Thanks for doing the grocery shopping," Melanie said twenty minutes later, not taking her eyes off the pages. "That Yoplait yogurt is always so hard to find."

"Not a problem," her husband answered. "Anytime."

"And the garden looks so wonderful; I'll ignore the fact that the hall hasn't been cleaned."

"Sabrina did it," the Gray Man answered. "Her teacher today said that she does her homework but has absolutely no patience and thinks there are twelve planets in the solar system. I tried to convince your stubborn daughter otherwise, but she's convinced there are unseen planets between Jupiter and Saturn."

She laughed. "She's got a few of those ideas. She tell you about Spencer?"

"Who?"

"Her imaginary bunny, Spencer. Apparently all her friends can see him but we're too old."

Just as Arthur Gray felt he could breathe again, Melanie spoke: "Why does our daughter have a tattoo?"

"You saw it?" he asked.

"While she was getting ready for bed. She tried to hide it, but it didn't work."

"She got it from a boy in school," he said "but it's supposed to come off with water and she promised it would be gone-"

"Now," she said. "She's not going to school with either lipstick or tattoos. Goodnight, dear."

"Goodnight."

Lying in the dark next to his sleeping wife, Arthur Gray knew that it would be a long time before he would have another day like this. For tomorrow, he would be the Gray Man, and only the Gray Man, once again. But no matter what happened tomorrow, he would still find his way home.


End file.
